


Just Give Me A Little Respect

by InimitableBiscuit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Boyfriends, Flintwood, M/M, Pasta, Post-Hogwarts, Quidditch, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 13:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12170268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InimitableBiscuit/pseuds/InimitableBiscuit
Summary: Oliver has had a bad day captaining.Marcus has a think.Featuring: Pyjamas! Pasta! Igor impressions! The Play Book!





	Just Give Me A Little Respect

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-ed. Apologies for the state of the grammar  
> Also these characters do not belong to me, nor does quidditch.

Marcus wandered back into the bedroom in his Avengers pyjama bottoms rubbing his short, dark hair dry with his towel. The room was _still_ empty. Sighing, he chucked the towel in the laundry bin in the corner of their neat room and stalked into the living area of the flat.  
"Oliver" he called "Babe, where are you?" no reply but he spotted the broad back of his partner hunched over the kitchen table. Rolling his eyes the tall man muttered "that bloody play book" and strode towards the homely kitchen.

The keeper jumped a little as one strong, tanned hand curved around his chest while the other plucked the quill from his hand. "Hey!" he started but was interrupted by the low rumble of Marcus in his ear "Ols, it's 8.30, I've been home for half an hour. What time did you get back?"  
"Half five, I've been trying to fix what went wrong since then" he heard a soft huff of laughter and "practice that bad huh?" came the question. "Yes" said the Scot flatly.  
"Oliver you haven't even changed let alone showered or eaten. Go and sort yourself out while I cook us something, you stink." The burly brunet looked down at his mud covered Pudd Utd kit and smiled slightly "I guess I do. Okay Mar I'll see you in ten"  
The arm left him and Oliver immediately felt the loss. He pushed the chair back as Marcus moved to open the cold store. Oliver ogled the huge chaser's bum for a moment then turned and headed to the ensuite.

Fifteen minutes later Ollie was pyjamaed up and ready to eat. He stopped at the bedroom door as he saw Marcus lounging at the table engrossed in a book as two full plates sat steaming under warming charms. With a flash of anger Oliver realised that it was his play book.  
Marcus shocked him out of it a moment later by looking up and smiling that ridiculously brilliant smile of his. "Come and eat and you can complain about the uselessness of your chasers" Somewhat cautiously the younger man asked "What is it?". Marcus' cooking experiments were somewhat 'legendary' (notorious) amongst family and friends.  
"Rigatone al ragu" the tall man frowned "My grandma was Italian you cheeky fucker, now siddown and eat"  
Oliver bowed his head, smirking "Yeth _Maarrrthhterr_ " he lisped as he put on an exaggerated hunchback and limp to cross the room to his usual seat. He looked down at he plate - oh thank the gods it looked like normal food. Big tubey pasta with a tomatoey, meaty, vegetably sauce. He stuck a fork in and put it in his mouth with barely any apprehension which was good because it was fucking _DEE-LISH-USS_.

Mar raised an eyebrow at the filthy moan that came from his partner. "Better than expected huh?" he smirked slightly "You are my god Mar, why the fuck do you ever cook non-italian food?! You could open a restaurant just for your fucking nan's pasta" came the immediate reply. 

Marcus enjoyed the view of the keeper's cheeks going a bit pink as he heard what he'd said out loud. Damn, Ols was hot when he was embarrassed.  
"Cheers babe, I'll keep that in mind" he smirked widely at his now furiously blushing boyfriend. Leaving a silence for a few more minutes while they ate, the chaser eventually decided to let Oliver off the hook.

"Okay, so what happened today? Because if they'd followed your planned plays there shouldn't have been a problem. They're really good Ol. A fuck load better than any of the Magpies plays this season" Marcus took note of the rage flowing over the Puddlemere captain's face and stopped talking. He winced as the yelling started.  
"First, I can't believe you looked at my play book you fucking traitor. Are you spying on my team?"  
Marcus lifted his hands in supplication "woah, woah babe, you know I'd _never_ pass on _any_ of your plays. They are yours."  
He got a curt nod in reply before the keeper started again in a lower but still angry tone "Yeah, okay. Second, do you think that if the chasers had actually followed my plays that I'd be _this_ pissed off?" Oliver finished and shoved his plate away, crossing his arms he glared at the floor biting his lip.

His boyfriend hummed then chuckled lightly. "What?!" demanded the Scot. Marcus looked up at the ceiling and smiled "Just my contract is up for tender at the end of the season and I happen to know Canterbury is being retired from Pudd. Rumour has it that he's been disrespectful to the new captain due to his age and position" a smirk and a wink was sent across the table.  
Oliver was completely flabbergasted "Just how _the fuck_ do you know what my bosses are planning?" he asked.  
"Babe I've had a spy in the boardroom for years now, this was just the first time that any of the info was relevant to me" The look sent Mar's way was classic Oliver. Oh man, how was confused and frowning _that_ cute? Oh crap, his lips were moving, Marcus tuned back in to the hereandnow to hear "...ow is it relevant to you?"  
"Well, if Pudd deign to apply for me, I may be fairly solicitable. As long as the captain thinks I'll be able to keep up with his plays _unlike_ Canterbury" he grinned as Oliver's frown deepened until a wee ray of realisation hit him. "Would you really follow me as your captain without question?" Ols asked.  
"No babe" Marcus had to hold his hand up to stop the keeper from launching a furious interjection. The darker man continued "I'd follow you with respect but I would still question things I either seriously objected to _or_ was unsure about without further explanation. Otherwise how would you keep developing the team?"

The likelihood of serious yelling seemed to dissipate the more the chaser explained, thank fuck - Ols could get positively glaswegian when he thought he was wronged. Marcus picked the napkin off his lap and chucked it onto his plate before standing. Walking round to his stunned boyfriend's chair he leaned down and kissed the lightly freckled forehead gently. "Just think it over" Marcus muttered in Oliver's ear "There's no pressure either way. I love you and I always will". Straightening just as the keeper started leaning into him, Marcus squeezed his shoulder "Have a think, I'll see you in bed when you're ready"

Next season Puddlemere won the cup thanks to their newest chaser and their captain's amazing playbook.

fin

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, yes, I know the ending is a non-smutty cop out but clearly Oliver sat in the kitchen for like 3 hours after that conversation before climbing into bed next to his unconscious boyf.  
> Head canoning Marcus as part Italian this time (I basically switch between whether he could aesthetic as Joe Morelli or Ranger most of the time)
> 
> Also aw man, so dialogue heavy!


End file.
